Home Invasion
by dawn341
Summary: Jim struggles with his supersensitive hearing - especially after his home is invaded.


Home Invasion by Dawn Cunningham

Disclaimers:

Jim Ellison, and Blair Sandburg belong to Pet Fly Productions. I'm just borrowing them and not getting paid for it.

Do not post or publish this story anywhere else, without my express permission. Feel free to share it with others as long as the disclaimers remain intact.

This story was originally published in Sentry Post 2.

I wrote this story many years ago.

* SENT * SENT * SENT *

At first Jim Ellison wasn't sure what had pulled him from his deep slumber. His Sentinel eyes scanned the room around him, automatically adjusting for the lack of light. Nothing unusual there. He pulled the white noise generators out of his ears, and listened carefully. Almost automatically, he zoomed in on Blair Sandburg's breathing, and heartbeat. His roommate was apparently sound asleep in his own bed on the lower level, so that wasn't what he had heard.

Ever since the impacted wax had been cleaned out of his ears during his physical, he'd been even more susceptible to the minutest of noises. The slight scratching of his roommate's ink pen, had sounded like a buzz saw. And that was with the noise generators firmly implanted in his ears. He thought he had been getting more used to it, but there were still times when he seemed to lose control.

There it was again. The sound of stealthy footsteps seemed to echo through his apartment thanks to his over-sensitive hearing. It sounded like there were at least two people moving around downstairs. Reaching under his pillow, Jim pulled out his gun, and stealthily got out of bed, thumbing off the safety as he did. Almost on tiptoe, he snuck to the top of the stairs, gun at the ready, and scanned the room below. He couldn't see anyone - could they have possibly gone into Blair's room already?

Cautiously, he headed down the stairs, trying to control his own breathing that was beginning to sound overloud. Worry that whoever had intruded into his domain had some nefarious plot that involved Blair made him quicken his pace. At the bottom of the stairs he turned to head toward Blair's room. The door was closed and he reached for the doorknob, slowly turning it, and opening the door a crack.

The only occupant of the room was Blair.

Jim spun back around, looking around the rest of the apartment for the intruders.

Nothing.

He flipped on the light switch, only barely managing to dial down his sight before he was blinded by the sudden infusion of light. Once again he scanned the apartment, but there was no sign of any intruders. The locks and security chain were all still in place on the door, proving that no one could have exited that way.

Jim checked the back door and found the same thing there. The patio door was still locked, but since the door had no security chain, it was possible that someone could have locked the door as they left. He quickly checked the patio, and found no signs of entry that way.

That only left Blair's room where there was a fire escape outside the bedroom window. Before he could head in that direction, Blair emerged from his bedroom, scrubbing at his eyes with one hand.

"What's going on, Jim?" he asked sleepily.

"I heard someone moving around the apartment," Jim replied in a low tone. "They must have heard me coming and left before I got down here."

"There was someone in the apartment?" Blair asked, looking around nervously. "How did they get in?"

"They must have come through your bedroom window."

Blair turned pale as he looked over his shoulder. "My window?" he asked in a quavering voice.

Jim led the way into Blair's room. The window was shut, and the latch holding it closed was firmly in place. No one could have left the apartment that way.

"I don't understand," Jim muttered. "How did they leave?"

"You think they're still here?"

Jim rolled his eyes. "Do you see anyone else here?"

"Maybe they're hiding in the closet," Blair offered.

Realizing that was a possibility, Jim cautiously opened the closet door.

Nothing.

"This doesn't make any sense!"

"Maybe you just dreamed you heard something," Blair calmly pointed out.

Jim had to admit that was a possibility. Still, it had seemed so real. He was almost positive he'd been wide awake when he'd heard the footsteps. Mentally, he reviewed his actions. "No, I know I was awake when I heard something. I'd even taken out the white noise generators. I couldn't have been dreaming."

"Ooookay..." Blair's face took on a look of deep concentration. "Maybe you heard something in one of the other apartments," he finally suggested. "After all, your hearing has been really super strong lately. Maybe you heard Mr. Fitzhugh sneaking in again. You know his wife has been complaining about him carousing around half the night."

Jim liked that idea much better. It made logical sense. It made more sense than invisible intruders who got through locked doors. He knew some of his neighbors kept weird hours, so it was possible that was all it was. "Maybe I should check things out," he suggested, heading toward the stairs to his bedroom. "I'll put some clothes on, and take a look around."

"Why?" Blair asked. "You should be able to check everything out from here. You've got these great senses - use them!"

Jim was skeptical, but he decided to give it a try. He sat down on the couch, closed his eyes, and slowly raised the dial on his hearing. Dimly, he was aware that Blair had joined him, placing one hand on his arm to center him. It gave him the courage and the strength to open his senses even wider.

One by one, he checked out the other apartments, listening for unusual sounds. In the first, he found the slow, steady breathing that indicated those neighbors were sleeping. In the next, there was restless stirrings as the occupant slept fitfully. This was a good possibility - if someone had been moving around, they wouldn't have fallen into a deep sleep yet.

He moved on to the next, but there was no sound that he could detect other than a clock ticking. He started to relax, knowing there was only one left to check. He concentrated on that apartment, and heard some unusual noises. When he finally realized what he was hearing, he quickly shut down and jumped to his feet.

"What's wrong?" Blair asked, looking nervous again. "Did you hear something wrong in one of the apartments? Should I call Simon?"

"No! I heard two of our neighbors having sex! I felt like a voyeur! You and your brilliant ideas," he said with disgust.

"Really? Who?" Blair asked, curiosity lighting up his face.

Jim reached out and swatted his roommate's head. "Never mind. Go back to bed. Maybe it was all a bad dream after all." With that, he stalked up the stairs and climbed back into his bed.

* SENT * SENT *

Even though he'd gone back to bed, Jim had struggled to find restful sleep again. He kept finding himself checking out the place over and over again. He couldn't stop himself from doing it, and he'd finally given up and gone back downstairs. He channel-surfed until it was time to get ready for work.

A day filled with paperwork concerning a recent bust had not improved his mood. He didn't even have Sandburg around to help since the grad student had lectures and office hours to keep. Simon Banks wasn't even around to pass out new assignments. He was taking a well-deserved long weekend.

By the time Jim got home, his head felt like it was going to explode. Blair was already there, fingers flying over the keyboard of his laptop. He didn't even look up when the door opened, too busy grabbing the pencil that was hooked over his ear to jot something down on a pad at his side.

Jim headed for the refrigerator and pulled out a beer. The sound of the top popping finally intruded into Blair's thoughts.

"Oh, hi, Jim." Blair glanced over at the stove, then the clock. "Oops... guess I forgot to put dinner on. "I was just reading these articles on the Kaingang tribe from Southern Brazil. They were just so fascinating that I lost track of time."

"That's okay, Chief. I'm not really hungry." Jim took a sip of his beer, and headed for the couch.

Blair was on his feet in an instant. "Did something go wrong at work? A bad case? No, wait, you had a sensory spike - I knew I should have skipped my office hours today. You need me there to watch your back."

"I needed you there to do my paperwork," Jim replied with a grimace. "The only thing I was in danger from today was a paper cut. I just have a headache."

"I have just the thing for a headache," Blair said as he turned toward the stereo. "There's this CD of music by the aborigine tribe of-"

"No!" Jim almost shouted. "All I need is some time to relax... watch a little mindless TV... have a beer or two. That's it."

"Well, if you're sure..." Blair looked crestfallen. "I still think you should try the music..."

"Go back to your King Kong tribe, Chief. I'll take care of my own headache."

"That's Kaingang. They also had some interesting herbal remedies-"

"Sandburg!" Jim cut him off again. "You study, me relax. Is that simple enough for you?" He waited until Blair had returned to his computer. "We'll order some Chinese later, okay?"

"Sure, Jim."

* SENT * SENT *

Jim headed for bed early, figuring a good night's sleep would improve his attitude tremendously. It was not to be. Once again he was awakened by the stealthy footsteps that seemed to echo through his bedroom. This time he was sure. This time he *knew* someone was in his apartment.

Grabbing his gun, Jim didn't bother with stealth this time. He wasn't going to give the intruder time to get away. Figuring his Sentinel eyes could adjust to light changes quicker, he turned on the lights and rushed down the stairs, ready to defend his place.

Nothing. No one.

A noise behind him caused him to spin around, bringing up his gun to ready position without thought.

"Whoa, man!" Blair threw up his hands and backed up.

Jim let out a shaky sigh, and lowered his gun. Once again he turned to survey his domain, unable to believe there was no one there.

"What's wrong, Jim?" Blair finally asked.

"I heard them again. The footsteps. I was positive there was someone else in the apartment."

Blair's face took on a look that Jim was way too familiar with. The look that sent cold fingers of terror up and down his spine. The look that said Blair was thinking of tests that he could do to help a Sentinel learn to control wayward senses.

Before the grad student had a chance to come up with anything, the phone rang. Jim quickly picked it up, knowing it was probably work related. He was right. Simon was on the line, summoning them to a crime scene. Jim listened to the details, then hung up. Blair had already returned to his room, and the Sentinel could tell he was dressing. Jim cast one more look around the apartment before trotting upstairs to get dressed himself.

* SENT * SENT *

It wasn't until they were on their way back home several hours later, that Blair started spouting his ideas as to what was going on.

"Okay, Jim... A Sentinel's job is to protect the tribe. That would even include when they are sleeping. So, your senses must kick up automatically, but they still allow you to rest. However, when your subconscious registers a threat to your 'tribe', it wakes you up."

"That's great, Sandburg. But there is no threat. Or else I'm hearing someone enter another apartment elsewhere. Why would I consider them my 'tribe'."

"That's just the way it is. Technically, all of Cascade is your tribe, but there's no way your senses could listen to that many people."

Jim almost shuddered at the thought. "So, how do I stop listening to what I don't need to?"

"You can't stop - I just have to figure out a way to desensitize your hearing so you only listen so far - in essence to shrink your 'tribe' down to just the apartment." Blair thought about it for a while. "I wonder why this is only starting now. Your impacted wax was cleared out several weeks ago. So, why now? Has anything weird happened at work? Are you being threatened in some way?"

"The only thing in my life that is weird is you, Sandburg. And these blasted senses. Everything else is normal. I'm not scheduled to testify in any big trials. No threatening phone calls or letters. Nothing."

"Hmmmm..."

Silence reigned during the rest of the trip home. Something that was very unusual. Blair had a tendency to talk constantly, so Jim knew he was deep into his thoughts on finding a solution.

Once they got home, Jim wearily trudged up the stairs, stripped down to his boxers and crawled into bed. He listened to Blair rummage around for a few moments before he finally fell asleep.

* SENT * SENT *

The strident tones of Blair's alarm jerked Jim awake two hours later. He blearily looked at his clock, then rolled back over. Sandburg must have an early class, but he knew he didn't need to be in to work until much later, thanks to their late night investigation. For a brief moment, Jim felt slightly guilty about dragging Blair out in the early hours of the morning. It wasn't really fair that the grad student had to cover two jobs, but Jim figured it was his choice. Blair could always say no.

Trying to sleep through Blair getting ready for school took a lot of doing. Still, Jim managed to stay half-asleep until he heard the sound of the front door closing. He did a quick sweep of his place, and found nothing unusual. Confident that his 'tribe' was safe, he fell back asleep.

Several hours later, Jim woke up, feeling much better than he had the day before. He'd heard no more footsteps, and he was ready to face the day. He quickly showered, then headed into work, hoping that the crime scene reports would be on his desk, and he could concentrate on his new case.

* SENT * SENT *

Jim looked up from the report he was reading as a whirlwind entered the bullpen. Sandburg almost vibrated as he bounced to a stop by Jim's desk.

"I've got the answer!" Sandburg blurted out while swinging his backpack off his shoulder and onto Jim's desk. He dug through it, pulled out several books, then handed them to Ellison.

Jim sat back as he studied the titles. 'Tales Of The Paranormal'. 'True Ghost Stories'. 'Real Life Hauntings'. "You must be kidding."

"No! Think about it, man! You're hearing footsteps when no one is there. What better explanation can there be? We're being visited by some paranormal being. Maybe it's trying to communicate with you."

"Riiight. Now you think I can hear dead people."

"You never know. We have no idea just how far this Sentinel gift might go. It might enhance the sixth sense as well as the five other senses. So, I've arranged to have a séance in the apartment tonight. Maybe we can find out what this person wants."

"Well, you can just unarrange, Sandburg. No séance. No mumbo jumbo. It's not going to happen. I don't need some charlatan to come in and tell me he's communicating with my great-uncle Mortimer, and that I have to solve his murder before he can rest in peace."

"You had a great-uncle that was murdered? Wow! How long ago was this?"

Jim sighed, and closed his eyes. He rubbed his hand over his forehead as he felt a throbbing start up. "No! I don't have any relatives that have been murdered. And I don't have a great-uncle Mortimer, either. That was just an example."

"Well, maybe you don't know that one of them was murdered! Maybe their death was ruled accidental when they were really killed by someone. This could be your chance to find out. Think about it, Jim."

"I've thought about it. No séance. End of discussion."

Blair started muttering as he placed the books in his backpack. Jim turned up his hearing to listen in.

"...trying to help, but, noooo, Mr. Super Cop can't be bothered. We could be on the brink of a great scientific discovery, but noooo, he can't be bothered."

When Blair finally finished packing his bag, he looked back at Jim. "Well, since you obviously don't need or want my help, I guess I'll go home and work on my assignments."

Even though Jim was pretty sure that Sandburg was just trying to con him into this séance thing, he still felt a little guilty at the hurt tone in the young man's voice. "Chief, you know that's not true. It's just that I don't believe in all that mumbo-jumbo crap. Now, do you want to stay and help with some *real* police work?"

A smile flashed across Blair's face. "You mean police paperwork?"

"Well, that too."

"Sure, Jim." Blair settled down on his chair, then looked at Jim. "Did you ever check if someone died in your apartment building? Might be worth checking on."

"Shut up, Chief."

* SENT * SENT *

Since Blair had arrived at the station in his own car, he left before Jim. It gave the cop the chance to access the police database to search for his building address without the grad student knowing about it. The majority of police calls to that address had been in the past year or so - about the time that Sandburg had moved in.

"I knew you were a trouble magnet, now I have proof," the Sentinel muttered.

There was one case where a man in the apartment directly below him had died in his sleep. Since he had been almost ninety years old, Jim doubted there would be any reason for the man to be suddenly haunting the building.

No, there had to be another reason. Something logical. Something that he could fight against.

For now, he'd better get home before Blair got any more wild ideas, and started burning sage or moving his furniture around.

* SENT * SENT *

Other than lighting some candles, and putting on some weird aboriginal music, Blair had left the apartment alone. When the younger man announced that he had a hot date with a grad student who had been studying paranormal activity, Jim understood why. It took Blair a lot of time to get ready for a date.

Once the grad student had almost run out the door, Jim blew out the candles, and turned off the music. He ordered takeout from his favorite Thai restaurant, and once he'd picked it up, spent the evening reading a good book. It was just the kind of night he needed. By the time he climbed the stairs to bed, he was totally relaxed.

Jim surfaced once when he heard Blair come in from his date. He hadn't stayed awake for long, too accustomed to hearing the younger man moving around in the lower level of the apartment to let it bother him.

It was much later when he jerked awake again, hearing that the intruder was back. For a moment he was tempted to just stay in bed, figuring he wouldn't find anything if he went downstairs. But he couldn't take the chance that there was someone in the apartment. It wasn't just his life at stake, he had Blair to think about, too.

He didn't bother trying to be quiet as he descended the stairs. As soon as he reached the lower level, he switched on the lights. As expected, there was no one there. Blair emerged from his bedroom a moment later, so he knew there was no intruder in that room.

"Jim?"

"I heard it again, Chief. I just don't understand what's going on! What good are these senses if I can't control them!" Jim demanded.

"We'll figure out how to control them. It just takes time, Jim." Blair paused for a moment, thinking. "Okay... let's try your other senses. Maybe you can use your sense of smell to figure out if anyone has been in here. Or maybe you can feel a change in the air that would indicate there is a ghost here."

Jim shook his head. "Chief, there's nothing here. I'm starting to think I'm losing my mind!"

"Just do it."

Jim sighed, then inhaled deeply, and almost staggered from the rank odor that flooded his nose. He gagged, then coughed as he lowered the dials to cut the smell.

"What did you smell?" Blair asked, moving closer.

"I don't know, but it was bad."

"See if you can piggyback your sight on your sense of smell, and find out where the odor is coming from."

Jim sighed again, and raised the dial levels on his senses again. The rank smell was coming from the kitchen area, and he moved toward that section of the apartment. "If I'm smelling some kind of weird concoction that you've got stashed in a cupboard, you're going to be cleaning the kitchen until I can't smell it anymore."

"Hey! I'm innocent!" Blair protested. "Maybe you're smelling some food that's gone bad in the fridge."

"No, it's not coming from there." Jim cautiously moved around the island, and followed the stench that was growing stronger. As he rounded the corner, he discovered his intruder. He raised his gun, ready to eliminate the threat to his well-being, but Blair grabbed his arm.

"Jim! You can't shoot!"

"Yes, I can!"

"C'mon, Jim. How can you even think about shooting?"

"It's a rodent! A disease-carrying, home-invading rodent!"

"It's a mouse, Jim. It's small and cute, and just trying to survive."

Jim stared at the small creature that was creeping along the baseboard of the kitchen island. He couldn't believe that this was the intruder that had disturbed his sleep for the past three nights. "So, what do you suggest I do, Sandburg? Invite it to stay?"

"No. I'll get some humane traps tomorrow and catch it. We can let it go free down in the alley."

Jim shuddered. "It will just come back in, Chief. I want it gone, now! And I want it gone permanently."

"Chill, Jim. It's just a mouse. It's not hurting anything. I'll take care of it tomorrow."

Just then the mouse darted into a small hole under the kitchen cabinets. Jim sighed, knowing his chance of getting rid of the intruder was gone for now. "All right, Sandburg. It can wait until tomorrow. But first thing in the morning, you're going to get mousetraps and get rid of it. Then we're going to scrub this place down from top to bottom."

"Now wait a minute, Jim... I said I'd catch the little guy... I didn't sign up for any cleaning. Besides, I need to document your reactions to this... uh... home invasion... The very fact that you could hear a mouse in your sleep is outstanding! Was it because you recognized a change in your environment? Or was it because you felt threatened?"

"I don't feel threatened by a mouse!" Jim protested.

"Jim... based on your irrational actions toward a tiny, defenseless mouse... you definitely felt threatened. Maybe it was a fear-based response..." Blair turned and headed for his bedroom.

"Sandburg! It wasn't a fear-based response! It was a... a..." Jim struggled to find the right words. "It was a home invasion!"

"By a mouse... wait until Simon hears this one!"

"Whoa! You can't tell Simon about this."

Blair grinned at him. "All right. I won't tell Simon... as long as I don't have to help clean..."

Jim's eyes narrowed. "That's blackmail."

Sandburg shrugged. "Your choice, man. Just think about this being spread around the station."

Jim sighed. "All right. I'll do all the cleaning. But you still have to catch the thing."

"No problem," Blair said as he turned on his computer. A moment later, he was typing, totally engrossed in his thoughts.

Jim just shook his head, before climbing the stairs to his own bed, not sure if he'd be able to fall asleep again. Just knowing there was a mouse somewhere within his apartment made him uneasy. He couldn't explain why, but he felt like his home had been invaded. It wasn't the first time it had happened, and it probably wouldn't be the last. He would just have to continue to be diligent and prevent any more home invasions.

But then he heard Blair moving around his bedroom below, and realized his home had been invaded by the grad student.

And that invasion had been more than worth while.

The end.


End file.
